


Silver Lining

by potatoscribbles



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoscribbles/pseuds/potatoscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world offers boundless amount of opportunities. It can start off sudden or it could take years to blossom. One just needs to find their optimism, their silver lining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, potatoscribbles here! welcome to my first contribution to the ensemble stars fandom. it's basically an idea that kuro becomes a tattoo artist in college because I think it would be really (thumbs up).
> 
> this work shouldn't be too long (three chapters maybe) because I'm practicing to get back into writing after my long hiatus, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Kuro was accustomed to the shop. Maybe it was because his college roommate, Kaoru Hakaze, spent his working days there. In the hours he worked, he was able to paint bare skin like it was a blank canvas. He was able to douse the body in a palette, the blending of his watercolor ink so soft as if he bathed the body in a sea that reflected the galaxy. Kuro only saw pictures of course, but it was amazing to see how one could portray themselves to others as walking pieces of art. It was amazing that anyone who entered his workplace became a traveling museum and his style was his signature.

Or maybe it was the way the owner was willing to mentor him. Her name was Nico Aizawa: a beautiful and talented artist renowned around the world for her intricate and microscopic details.

Kuro was taking a stroll through the city. Since his apartment was only a block or two away from the campus, the opportunity to meet her and her shop, Spilled Ink, was inevitable. “Ah! You look cool!”

The walls were laced with lavender vines on white pillars. The windows sparkled its lilac hue as of it was a violet garden with oil essence that offered the scent of morning rain. Kuro found the shop’s atmosphere different from the Victorian black and gold as if it’s laurel leaves were melted into a smoldering witch‘s pot. He believed it was different than he who stood before it, with his fire hair like a phoenix that set blazed from his thoughts and he tried to embody.

He examined himself. He noticed the way his shirt didn't need to be so primed-pressed under his hooded leather jacket or how his shoe laces on his high-boot sneakers were too loose and about to come undone over his dark blue denim jeans. He noticed his fly away strand of red hair that always seem to find the spot on the right side of his forehead, throwing off whatever professional charisma he could give her. “Cool? You think this is cool?”

“Yeah! Why don’t you work for my shop?”

The idea was strange to him. Why would he need to make tattoos? Why was this woman, known worldwide for this craft, be willing to mentor some stranger simply because she thought he looked cool? What was so captivating about the shop? The answer had to be simple.

_Why not?_

As Kuro waltzed through Spilled Ink, Nico’s voice reduced down to murmurs against the buzzing needle blades. The needles didn’t scare him; in fact, there was a nostalgic ring to them like his mother’s old sewing machine that’s creating dust bunnies in the attic.

He could see Kaoru working on a client. His golden locks were tied back into a ponytail as his fringe was brushed to the side to clear his line of sight. His eyes narrowed, focused, as a faint crease lined the space between his eyebrows. The smell of airbrush paint was faint like mist ton a foggy morning, but he couldn’t tell as a surgical face mask covered his mouth and nose. Yet the results were magnificent as if one could be thrown into the sea to observe a dolphin jumping towards the sky. The image imprinted on the woman’s thigh and Kuro couldn’t help but be curious toward the intimacy between the client and artist as well as how seductive it could be.

The other caught his gaze after his piece was complete. Pulling off his mask so that it would rest below his chin, Kaoru greeted the older. “Ah Kuro, fancy meeting you here. Finally decided to join the gang?”

“I’m not sure but it seems interesting, ya know?”

Nico’s hand found Kuro’s back, patting his shoulder blade lightly as she nodded towards Kaoru. “Kaoru has told me a bit about you” she explained, “Told me some of your high school days and have been trying to get you to work here.”

“Hmm … ya don’t say.” His gaze fell on the frames of some clients that had sent in their photos. They were taken professionally, but their charm was like postcards to commemorate where their work could go. The smile on their faces glowed like stage light and he could appreciate the familiarity. Crossing his arms, Kuro could replicate the upturn of his lips. “I suppose I could give it a try.” A small chuckle escaped his lips; something in him told him an opportunity was waiting for him that he just couldn’t pass up.

It had started out as a whim.

A few days turned into a few weeks while Kuro was able to practice washable airbrush paint on flat parchment to three dimensional mannequins. When he began to practice with needles, the concept itself wasn’t strange to him. He liked to compare it to sewing to make things easier and naturally it had become fun. It had become a habit that he found himself at the shop during his free time or using himself as a practice subject. It was refreshing to him, like the autumn fall of maple leafs fading into new colors. What started as a simple whim to Kuro had become a part of his college life.

Facing a mirror in a room he was assigned to, Kuro upturned his jaw line, exposing more of his neck. With his shirt stripped off, he began to outline a lion’s face on his right pectoral. He brushed the eye and fur of its forehead until it reached the edge of his collarbone, trailing the lion’s mane onto his shoulder. “Hey, you’re still here?” Nico’s voice came from the hallway, her body resting on the doorframe.

“My client tomorrow had a kind of last minute idea change, so I thought I ought ’a practice beforehand.”

“You learned exponentially fast; I barely lifted a finger.”

“I’m sure ya not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Well, why don’t you get some rest. You don’t want to make a mistake tomorrow.”

“I suppose ya right. I’ll see ya tomorrow, Nico.” Putting on his shirt and buttoning it halfway, Kuro grabbed his backpack and hung it over his shoulder. He bowed slightly before making his way out of the shop. The night was cold but the city was lit by the row of streetlamps like a trail of fireflies. A sigh slipped passed his lips, the steam floating into the air so it could float into the air and become stars. After soaking the night air for a moment, a voice cut through the tranquility.

♦♦♦

He was frozen; captivated to see him again. It had been a year — or two, maybe three? He had forgotten the sense of time, as if he was stuck in an hourglass and the sand would not stop drowning him. He side profile was large, the way his chest puffed up when he breathed.  “Ah, Morisawa — is that you?”

His voice was still the same: deep, resonating in his heart that caused his lungs to expand and shake within his ribcage. His eyes were intimidating but soft in the way that they raised his eyebrows and twinkle from his smile bright than the lamplight he stood under, brighter than the stars that watched him.

Chiaki hadn’t change much himself since they saw each other last. His bed hair was tousled like he had just gotten off a rollercoaster; his outfit of a space graphic tea under his tin red, zipped up hoodie. Everything could be the exact dame except the blaring fact that his voice was hitched in his throat and his hand sweated like he was on the beach in the middle of July. Kuro noticed this and decided to initiate the conversation forward. “What brings ya out this late at night?”

“Late night study session…”

“At the University?”

“Yeah?”

“Ya don’t say.” His voice was low that it barely reached Chiaki’s eardrums, “University’s so big. I never see ya around.”

“Ah, then we should meet up sometime!” The words blurted out of him. The only way he could save himself from embarrassment was his booming laugh. It didn’t occur to him that the echo ricocheting against his eardrums may have been context inappropriate and set a fire to the apples of his cheeks, releasing a settling fever on his forehead. “Only if you want to of course!”

“That would be nice. You live around here? We can walk together.”

“My apartment is along the strip of the dorms if you’re over there.”

“Mine is one block over, so I can walk you part way.”

Chiaki nodded as he made his way to Kuro. To walk beside him was nostalgic and it felt comfortable. He remember being more touchy feely though, like how he would rush over to him and jump on his back after he and Tetora completed their karate club practice. He didn’t feel right doing that kind of contact now: too much time had passed.

He couldn’t help but his eyes wander. The way Kuro’s eyes kept forward, or the sharpness of his jaw line, made his face more mature than he saw him last. He noticed the bare nape of his neck and the dark shadows that painted his skin. Everything about Kuro was the same, but the smell of ink and the flashing image of a lion glaring back at him made his head spin. “Do ya have something to say?”

“I’m sorry for staring.”

“It’s okay, but it’s a temporary. I work at the shop over there, so I practice on myself before I do the real thing.”

Chiaki depended on the darkness in that moment because he could tell his fever was taking its toll on him. His face burned like he had entered a sauna as he thought about where the tattoos could be on Kuro’s skin. He imagined what clothes Kuro could possibly wear to showcase his progress. He wanted to ask more about it, but he couldn’t deny the growing tightness in his jeans and his entire focus on controlling that had taken priority. “That’s really cool. I almost can’t believe it.”

_God, was he always this meek in front of Kuro?_

“Ah, which building is yours?”

“Oh, we’re here already? It’s this one over here.”

“Then I’ll see ya around then.” Chiaki had to say something — anything— to see him again. His voice had left him, his words clinging onto the lining of his throat to never let him take a single breath. “It was really good seeing ya, Morisawa. We should really hang out again.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“My number is still the same, so message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.”

Their departure was strained, but Kuro was soft like the light fog in the night sky. Chiaki turned away, his thoughts crashing into the caverns of his brain like a Trojan horse as they barricaded themselves with sharpened swords. It surprised him he could still hear his voice. “What are you doing?”

“Hey Kuro, another late night at the shop?” Chiaki’s eyes widen, his ears perking to focus on the change in pitch of each accented syllable of the other. He heard that voice every day his last year in high school. He heard it more so when the other skipped his practices to hang out with his band mate, Kanata. What made him so confused was to hear his voice conversing with Kuro.

“Yeah, where are you going at this hour?”

“Just taking a late night stroll through the town. Care to join?”

“Nah, I have work in the morning.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Chiaki found flight when he heard footsteps approaching, the voice echoing and caving into the shell of his ears. “Hmm, how strange, things are bumping in the night?” The scoff that left him turned into a light chuckle before he continued on his way, humming a melody in the dark.

Chiaki rushed back to his apartment room. The world was changing. His loud voice around Kuro had disappeared. Kuro’s image had grown. His heart had become louder than his thoughts as its beating drum sent vibrations against his ribs.

Kuro was living with Kaoru Hakaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to the next chapters.
> 
> p.s. who caught that pun near the end (laughs nervously)


	2. Chapter 2

Of all people Kuro could be rooming with, it had to be Kaoru— _that_ Kaoru. It’s the same Kaoru that only needed to give a kiss and a flirty wink to turn you into a blabbering fan girl amidst the heat flashed concert. He’s the same Kaoru who can get whomever he wants by the sweet linings of his tongue to taste like pure sugar and the comforting aura of a confiding friend. It’s that Kaoru that just happened to be Kuro’s roommate. And it’s that Kaoru that just happened to be on a first name basis with said Kuro.

Chiaki could rationalize that if two men room together, that doesn’t automatically deduce they are dating. On top of that, Kaoru was pretty open about his sexuality and Kuro, no matter how little he knew about his sexuality, didn’t show much interest in Kaoru.

Or anyone for that matter.

Kuro was quick to respond to his messages. But he was always like that from what Chiaki remembered. Whenever someone needed him, he would devote all his time and energy for them, like a knight seated at the right hand of the king. He spent his waking days working on customs or competitions to the point where Chiaki would find him dozing off in his class or even completely asleep at the dojo. All that time he spent with Kuro and he could never learn much about Kuro. What did he do in his spare time? What is he interested in? How is father? His little sister? What inspires him or what made him so hard working? Chiaki loved heroes; he wanted to be one. But if there was anyone who resembled a hero: it was Kuro.

He sat across from him at one of the cafes located on campus. Kuro ordered tea with honey; he ordered royal egg pudding with strawberry mousse. He was quiet as he blew on the hot brew that squeezed the fragrance of blueberries and lemon, or was it liqueur. He couldn’t believe Kuro was drinking alcohol, but he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

Kuro was like a shadow, draped in all black garments. His cape resembled a blue plaid shirt that tied around his waist, but he still shined like a coal burning bright red in a fire.

“You seem frazzled” Kuro announced. Chiaki’s hair was tangled into tumbleweed with a backpack barely holding onto his shoulder. His red plaid button down was undone, crinkled and worn at the sleeves so that he had to roll quarter long, His graphic tee of a tired cat floating in space resembled him as his thick rectangle spectacles tilted off his nose bridge, his dark circles looking like raven feathers under his eyes.

“I had a test in my morning class: astronomy.” Kuro let out a small laugh, his smile brimming on the rim of his porcelain creme cup.

“That’s so like you.” Chiaki’s eyes narrowed as his gaze faltered to the table. He wanted to be honest and ask Kuro so many questions he had built over the years, but he couldn’t figure out how. The more he tried to fumble out a question, the more he realized he should have bought some type of coffee instead of pudding. Kuro observed the other biting his lip as his shoulder stiffened with tension. “Tell me what’s been going on with you, Morisawa.”

That part was easy. He told Kuro about how he’s an astrophysics major and how he was taken back at how many physics classes were actually involved. He was into the astro, not really the physics of the major. Because of the college life, he hasn’t been going to the park by their hold high school anymore to perform stunts for the kids. He made a joke that the kids that showed up from when he was in high school outgrew his charm because they wanted to look mature. He was pleased to see how Kuro laughed, his body relaxing and his anxiety melting away. Time had passed and the older’s tea had gotten cold, the bright sun warming the spots on their bodies instead.

“But tell me about you, Kiryu. I feel like between the two of us, you’re the one who’s changed or have more interesting stuff to tell at the very least.”

“I don’t think so.” Placing his cup to the side, Kuro rested his cheek on the back of his hand. His gaze floated towards the window, the reflection of grass and students walking by painted on the irises of his eyes. “I feel the same as I did in high school.”

“What are you talking about? You’re working at a tattoo parlor and going to school at the same time. You’re rooming—” Chiaki paused. He didn’t want to imply that Kaoru had anything to do with Kuro and how he thinks he has anything to do with Kuro being different. The truth was simple: Chiaki was just lying to himself.

“It’s not like that.” Kuro waited for the younger to catch his gaze before he described his world surrounded by the darkness. By darkness, it wasn’t intimidating nor was it something he feared; it was just filled with uncertainty. He lived a minute a day, unable to see what was beyond what was a quarter of a mile in front of him. His sister had started high school and their relationship had become nonexistent over the years. He also wanted to believe it was because she was going through the phase of not wanting to be treated like a child.

School, for him, was ordered but it was simply because he made it that way: a set schedule, everything had a system and everything had its place. It was predictable he would be a fashion major; it was something he was exceptional at and it was truly something he enjoyed, but he couldn’t help but question some other alternate universe where he was doing something else. He fantasized what that something would be and how different he could actually be.

He speculated that Spilled Ink offered that alternate universe. He did it to pass time, but Nico had become a mother figure he had missed out on. Chiaki questioned Kuro if she really chose to mentor him because she thought he was cool, he could only laugh with a small rise and fall of his shoulders. “I’m not so sure myself, I think it was because Kaoru told her I was good with needles and he showed her some photos of the outfits I made for lives.”

Chiaki winced at how Kuro’s voice syncopated Kaoru’s name, but the other was quick to let another chuckle slip passed his lips. He stared at how Kuro’s fingers covered his lips so his laugh wouldn’t face a crescendo and how his cheeks rose, turning his eyes into crescent moons. “I don’t exactly know how needles for sewing correlate with needles for tattooing.”

“Is it difficult?” The older leaned back in his chair, his lips pressed thin as his eyes found the window again.

“It is, but in a good way. The only real challenge is finding the practice I need. No matter how you look at it, a mannequin will never be a human being and there are only certain areas I could tattoo on myself.”

Chiaki’s ears perked at the idea that lit his eyes into stars. “Ah, then why don’t you practice on me?” Kuro forgotten his tea had lost its steam as he mirrored a heated face. The apples of his cheeks were painted in a sunset gradient and the bridge of his nose became red like a garden of cherry blossoms had bloomed in its place.

“Ya don’t have to do something like that” he insisted.

“But your tattoos are amazing! And since they’re temporary, it’s not like they would actually affect me in any way.” His words ran away from him, finding their own rhythm that had become so natural, it was almost foreign to him. The other smiled, his eyes softening like they were dusted with clouds, as Chiaki shined in a sun setting light.

“You’re doin’ me a great favor.”

 _A favor?_ It was more than that. Chiaki recalled a time when Kuro came to his help on something like acting, the small things he asks for help. But Kuro had helped him throughout high school; he helped him be the man he is today. Any time he needed someone, Kuro was there. This was the least he could do. But before he could voice a simple, “It’s no trouble,” he heard a small sigh from the other.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.”

“Of course, we should do this more often.”

“Yeah, I would like that. Ya know, Morisawa?”

“Hmm?”

“The reason I feel the same from high school is because you’re here. I can always depend on you.”

♦♦♦

Chiaki was walking home, his ears deafened with Kuro’s voice repeating like a broken vinyl record, but it wouldn’t prevent him from seeing Kaoru down the street. “Hey Morisawa, long time no see.”

“No kidding. You live in the apartments around here?” _He knew the answer._

“Yeah, one block over from here. I room with Kuro Kiryu.” _He already knew that._

“Now that’s a strange mix” he huffed under his breath. Kaoru’s eyebrow sharpened as Chiaki sent daggers at him. “How did you two become roommates anyway?” He had to sound natural, curious, like a child navigating around the world. But his voice was dry and he couldn’t help but regret not buying a sports drink on his way home. The seconds in which the two stood in silence head become overbearing like each second piggybacked on his shoulders, bulldozing him deeper into the ground. Kaoru’s eyes had grown dark as the shadows of his fringe colored his face with a raven mask. His eyes pierced into the other as if ice froze over his body, the weight pulling him into the darkest depths of the ocean. Chiaki wanted nothing more than to retract his question and go on his way.

“Oh, I get it” Kaoru told. His voice came maniacal in how his laugh came forced, scratching the other’s eardrums and pulling the skin on the back of his neck by what thin hairs were there. His immense aura came like a swirling vortex. His face became straight as if he was playing poker and he had all of Chiaki’s cards in his hands. A sigh escaped him, turning into a light scoff. “Look, if it helps you sleep at night, there’s nothing going on between us. We room together because I couldn’t live at home and he was the only one I knew who didn’t have a roommate at the time.”

“I didn’t mean to probe—”

“That’s not it, isn’t it?” Kaoru crossed his arms, pointing at Chiaki with the upturn of his hand. “You don’t like the relationship between me and Kuro.” Chiaki swallowed hard, the air cold like needles dragging themselves down his esophagus.

“The only reason why you’re so on the edge is because you can’t come to grips with your own feelings or whatever relationship you have with him and you’re projecting it onto me.” Before another silence could settle between them, Kaoru let out another scoff. “Well, I’ll be honest. I’m sure I’ll run into you again Morisawa. So next time, let’s skip all the tension, okay?” Giving Chiaki a few loud pats on the back, he left him with his normal, flirtatious smile. The other was floored, so taken back by Kaoru’s straightforwardness, he couldn’t tell if he was sarcastic or not. All he knew was one thing.

He saw right through him.

♦♦♦

Kaoru closed the door behind him, causing Kuro to pull away from his book and stare at the other. “Back already?”

“Yeah.” Without giving it a second thought, Kuro turned back to his book while Kaoru leaned back on the door. “I had a quick chat with Morisawa and decided to come back.”

The older closed the book, his hand finding the back of his neck as he let out a sigh. “I see—”

“Kuro.” The older fell silent, turning the chair around to stare at the other, allowing him to continue. “When are you going to tell him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! I want to say that I'm glad I'm receiving good feedback on this work. I'll be starting a different story after this, so the next chapter will be the last! please look forward to it!


	3. Chapter 3

Chiaki entered Spilled Ink and he was immediately mesmerized by its charm. The oil essence of rainfall against the smooth granite countertops reminded him of his days covered in mud during his elementary days playing cops and robbers. He remembered walking home with a battered face in junior high, his feet scraping against the wet gravel. Every time, the smell of rain against the asphalt had a crispness to it that enlarged his lungs with wide gusts of air.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A voice called from the hallway. His gaze found Nico. She was wearing an army green coat, her short marine hair overflowing over the rim of the crème fur hood whilst her shaved side faded behind her right ear like the ocean leaving the shore. Chiaki could only stare at her in awe as his pupils shaped into stars. A small laugh escaped her as her hands found the sides of her hips, her head tilted to get a better look at the other. “You must be Chiaki.”

“Eh, how did you know?! You must be a mind reader!” Nico’s eyes widen, her lips thinned as she tried to refrain herself from responding. It was inevitable as she let out a loud gasp, her laugh ringing a melody that made Chiaki joyfully join along.

“Don’t be silly. Kuro told me you were coming. He’s in the back if you’d like to go there now.”

“Ah, thanks! Please excuse me then!” Bowing slightly, Chiaki made his way through the shop. There were strings of bead lights, like floating lanterns guiding him through a summer festival or a candlelit walk outside a restaurant whose backyard could be turned into a dance floor. Each room was dark as if he was stumbling backstage while trying to find his position behind the curtain in the far back. A lone room shined brightly for Chiaki. As he got closer, the smell of rain faded into a mixture of lavender and chamomile. When he closed his eyes, he could catch the whiff of sandalwood that stung his nose. The essence soaked into his skin, relaxing his muscles as if he was floating on clouds. Noticing the chair was open, he quickly sat down to douse himself in the sleep inducing potion.

“You’re here already, Morisawa?”

Chiaki must have counted one too many sheep because Kuro had walked into the room completely shirtless: his white, long sleeve tied around his waist like a belt. The lion that had once snuck stares from his shoulder had disappeared and was replaced with a black dragon whose claws crawled up his oblique muscles. To be shirtless in front of him, Chiaki couldn’t help but trail the ash that lathered Kuro’s skin and how the scales of the monster made the older’s v-cut so prominent. He could imagine the dragon blowing flames onto his face and how he would quickly use it as an excuse for the sudden sweat that beaded his forehead.

“To be honest, I was too excited, so I got here as soon as I could.” Kuro’s gaze faltered as his index finger found his jaw line.

“Ya don’t say.” He made his way to the tattoo chair, pulling the lever until the chair reclined and stretched into a bed. “Well, let’s get started then. If you don’t mind, I would need you to take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”

Chiaki’s fidgeting made it obvious that he was nervous being in front of Kuro— _he needed to strip in front of him._ He fumbled with the zipper of his jacket; his hands shaking as he pulled his graphic tee over his head. It didn’t help with this atmosphere: with Kuro shirtless himself, the muscle numbing fragrance, and all. Kuro had the decency to turn away throughout the whole process, but it didn’t stop Chiaki from thinking how different their body types were. He wasn’t scrawny to say the least, but it was clear that basketball builds one’s body differently than how karate does and he can’t help but admire Kuro’s body for it. He thought about how hot he actually looks in tattoos and how it must feel to actually touch his skin.

He was quick to reject the thought out of his mind as he climbed onto the bed. The hard, black leather pierced his skin, stiffening his muscles. Kuro sat on a revolving stool next to him, his olive green eyes becoming clear. Chiaki could see the faint dark circles forming underneath he older’s eyelids, creating his eyes to glow like jade under burning ashes. “You sure you’re alright with this? Although the tattoo’s temporary, it could last a couple of weeks.”

His voice rang differently in Chiaki’s ear; he didn’t realize the depth in his voice that rolled like thunder than shook like earthquakes. “Nah, I trust you” he told. The older’s chuckle quaked his spine, letting his hair stand on their tips.

“Well then, I’m starting.”

The paint sprayed like pouring rain showers, but the precision felt like laser beams or jet sprays from a water gun. It was like a water pulsing massage and Chiaki could have fallen asleep given any other situation. Kuro’s finger tips were soft against his skin, but hot as if he kept running too close to the sun. He shivered whenever the other would blow any excess dust that strayed too far away from the design and Chiaki could only bury his face whenever Kuro go too close to his neck. He was afraid his thoughts would be revealed in the searing blush that surged to the shell of his ears. The younger was only able to breathe lighter when Kuro stepped away to change the colors of the paint. “You could relax soon” Kuro announced, “I’m almost done.”

He held Chiaki’s hand in his, painting the underside of his forearm with the lining of the solar system. The younger stared at how the paint became stardust and how he had the whole universe flowing through his veins. Kuro caught his gaze, his smile hidden from the downturn of his head. “I knew this would suit you. I can’t wait until you see the star map on your back.” Chiaki’s smile mirrored Kuro’s in the way his eyes softened like fresh rose petals and hidden behind the arm he rested his weight upon. The other began to clean off the finishing touches with alcohol, his thumb messaging the younger’s forearm. “I’m sorry if this was uncomfortable for you” he admitted.

“Why do you say that?”

“Hmm, you were tense through a lot of it. I hope I didn’t care you or anything.” Chiaki jolted up to a sitting position, his voice echoing louder than either of them had expected.

“Ah, that wasn’t it!” Kuro’s eyes widen, tilting his head so his eyes could align with Chiaki’s. When their eyes met, Chiaki felt the need to be honest. Or it could be Kaoru’s voice that took over the voice of his own conscience. Regardless, he could finally understand the saying: eyes are the windows to the soul. He began to scratch the back of his ear, his voice fading into a sound no louder than a whisper. “It’s just, I just, it’s just that … I like you, so of course I’d be nervous around you.” The crashing sound rattled the bed, catching Chiaki off guard. The stool had lost its control, turning on its side and leaving Kuro sprawled on the concrete floor. “I’m so sorry to have thrown that on you. I—”

“No, no. It’s alright.” Chiaki was certain the lighting couldn’t have affected the way Kuro’s cheeks blazed into a crimson red, painting the whole spectrum of red onto his face like a cherry butterfly had landed on the bridge of his nose. He lowered his gaze as his chest rose with deep breaths. “I guess it just spoiled the surprise.”

The older stood up, turning off the light and creating Chiaki to be the center of attention. The younger’s jaw became heavy, dropping a little, as he gazed upon his own body in a pale blue glow. The neon, glow-in-the-dark paint was like starlight, the speckled dust giving an ambient light. He noticed the Saturn rings around his ring finger amongst the stardust. But it wasn’t until he read the words that floated down his arm like the Milky Way, connected by an array of stars.

_The planets align when I’m with you._

Chiaki could see the faint glow of Kuro’s face, his skin soft like morning dew. With eyes that were once looking somewhere he could not trace were now looking at his with utmost certainty. “I like you too. I’ve always had.” And Chiaki couldn’t help but laugh.

It was simple. It always has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all folks! thank you for tuning in to this tidbit of chiakuro. please look forward to more of this ship in the near future! (crosses fingers)
> 
> \- please imagine kaoru in the background or in the sky throwing his hands up in the air screaming "f i n a l l y" (laughs)


End file.
